The Staff At Erin's
by evgrrl09
Summary: David Rossi owns a successful bar, staffed by some complex and eccentric characters. AU fiction. Pairings: Morgan/Garcia and Hotch/Prentiss.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Here's just a fun little story that a came up when CeeCee333 and I were having fun with. It's my second completely AU story. Just a bit of humor, a pinch of smut, and some CM pairings! This is sorta my first official Hotch/Prentiss story, too. I allude to them in my story, Silver Lining, but this one has a serious focus on them. Hope you enjoy :)**

_**Hotch**_

If anyone would have asked Aaron Hotchner if he'd ever considered he would be a cook in a bar, he would have scoffed at them. It was a last resort for him to pay off his insane student loans from his undergraduate degree. He wanted to go to graduate school, but at this point he couldn't possibly afford it.

So here he was, cooking at a bar. Albeit it a successful bar. And his employer and fellow employees were like family to him. At least there was something positive about his experience.

As he set his messenger bag in his locker, he pulled his iPod out of one of the pockets and shoved the earbuds into his ears. No one had ordered food yet, even though the bar was buzzing slightly earlier than usual, the way it always did on the iconic karaoke night.

Sighing, he headed into his kitchen and turned on his stoves. At least he was going to be getting to do work to keep himself occupied that evening. It would keep him from commiserating in silence about his tiring life that consisted of nothing but work, no love life, and his special chicken wings everyone in town loved.

"Hey, Hotch," Derek Morgan called. "What's up, man?"

He looked up through the wide window where he had a marginal view of the bar and the activities going on in it. The joking bartender, Morgan, who Hotch had taken awhile to understand, was pouring a beer from the tap into a pitcher.

"Eh, not much," Hotch replied.

"Smile, Hotch! It's karaoke night!"

Hotch's attention was torn from Morgan to the other bartender, Emily Prentiss. She was pulling a liquor bottle up and adding it to a tumbler of ice to begin mixing a drink. Her perfectly white teeth sparkled. She was wearing skin-tight black slacks and a patterned halter top, wooden tribal-style earrings hanging from her ears.

The sight of her made Hotch's heart beat at a faster tempo.

Emily was the most beautiful girl in the world to him. She brought a certain air of delight to the room when she entered, and her biting wit made him crack a rare smile. Even when he didn't show a smile on his face, a smile entered his mind.

However, she had a relaitonship with the customers that he was envious of. They brought out the fun in her and made her throw back her head in laughter. He wanted that with her.

Unfortunately for him, he just wasn't that fun.

_**Emily**_

"There ya go, Handsome," Emily said to the customer whose drink she'd just finished mixing. She winked at him. "My specialty."

He winked right back. "Gorgeous, you are the light of my life right now," he said, raising his drink to salute her. He tossed a few dollar bills on the counter for her. "I'm gonna get as wasted as possible and get up there and sing a drunken ballad."

"Sing one for me," she laughed, sticking the bills in her smock.

As he walked off in the direction of the karaoke machine that Spencer Reid was firing up, Emily went to gather more clean glasses from the kitchen. "Morgan, handle the bar for me while I go get glasses," she called before disappearing into the kitchen. Briefly she heard her fellow bartender's response.

When she went to the dishwasher, the smell of spice and warm tangy barbecue sauce assaulted her nose in a pleasant way. She inhaled deeply, savoring the smell of Aaron Hotchner's famous wings. Sometimes she wondered if the only reason customers came in was for those chicken wings.

In fact, of that she was positive. Certain Yelp reviews raved about them, and only them.

Halting in the process of picking up mugs, she went around to the ovens where Hotch had his headphones in and was bobbing his head to the music. It was too loud, and the sounds of Bob Marley could be heard mixing with the sizzling of the pans. Her lips quirked into a smile, and she went to put her hand on his shoulder.

He jumped slightly and whirled his head to see who had touched him. She laughed and leaned agains the steel countertop beside the stove. "What's up?" she asked, punching his arm lightly. "You're unnaturally…_grim_ today."

The expression on his face wasn't altered, even by her attempt at a joke. Even more concerning to her was the silence.

Nervously, she laughed. He wasn't very responsive to her in general, and it hurt her somewhat. She tried to tell herself it was the way he was with all people, but deep inside she knew it wasn't the same. There was a certain standoffish element to their interactions.

It was abundantly clear he didn't like her.

Which was too bad, considering she liked him. She liked him very much.

"Uh, hi," he mumbled, looking back at the wings in his pan.

When he didn't say more, she cleared her throat. "So….what's going on?" she asked.

"Um, not much," he said, flipping a wing over to cook the other side of it.

"Smells good," she said, trying to change the intonation of her voice from disappointed to conversational. "You, uh, you doing anything different to them?"

Lips twitching, he shook his head. "Nope," he answered. "Same old, same old." Scratching his head, he averted his eyes and coughed. "Did you need something?"

Downcast, Emily shook her head. "Oh," she said in a small voice. Plastering a grin on her face, she waved awkwardly. "Well, I guess I'll see you later. I'm just saying hi."

He waved back. "Okay."

She turned around and trotted off, going to get the glasses she needed to serve her valued customers their drinks.

_**Morgan**_

Derek Morgan was accustomed to women flirting with him. He was completely and totally aware of the effect he had on them. However most of them were one in the same to him. Although there _was _one lady in particular who was different than every single woman he ever encountered.

Flirting with women was fun, but flirting with Penelope Garcia was exhilarating.

That one woman was standing across the room, leaning on a table as she listened to a table of men's drink orders. Her ruby red lips were spread into a grin, her brown eyes glittering as she jotted down the drinks. The sight of her was completely arousing; her usual attire to work was a low cut shirt paired with a miniskirt, fishnets, and high heels. Large flowers often adorned her honey blonde waves, whether they were up out of her way or cascading down her back.

Not only was it arousing, but it caused other men to look at her, and that made him jealous. In some ways that made her even more desirable.

He could hardly wait to squeeze the soft flesh of her breasts in his hands when last call was yelled out.

It wasn't as if their relationship was anything serious; it was anything but that. Penelope called him her "fuck buddy." He had no idea if she was sleeping with anyone else — he thought about sleeping with another woman sometimes just to see her reaction, but he couldn't get past the fact none of them were her — but he knew if he found another man she was sleeping with, he might "accidentally" slip rat poison in his drink.

As she turned around with a laugh from the table, she swished her hips seductively. The men at the table whistled and gazed at her retreating ass with ravenous eyes. Their eyes made rage boil within Derek, and he felt the fierce desire to punch each and everyone of them in both eyes until they were swollen like eggplants to the point they wouldn't be able to see any part of Penelope.

Penelope reached the bar and leaned against it right in front of Derek. Her breasts that were on display were fully within his view, and his mouth started watering.

However, he was so jealous he merely glared at her. She simply smiled and blinked innocently, batting her soft lashes. "Problem, Morgan?" she chirped in a sing-song voice.

Gritting his teeth, he shook his head. "Nothing at all," he growled, not taking his eyes from hers. He continued staring at her, not blinking once.

Penelope smirked. "Gonna take my drink orders? Time's a wastin'."

Seething with the green snake of jealousy, Derek hissed, "Absolutely."

_**Penelope**_

When Derek's Morgan's eyes lit up with a fiery rage, Penelope knew she would never feel more sexy. His gaze lit a fire in her, raising her nipples to the point it showed through her shirt and made other men stare at her breasts as she served their drinks or food. And when it fueled his jealousy, it fueled her arousal.

She wasn't interested in any other man's gaze, but their flirting and her reciprocated teases made Derek near rabid. It was as if he would start foaming at the mouth, solely because of the jealousy.

It wasn't as if he didn't flirt with other women, either. And it wasn't as if she became jealous right back. The fawning women who touched him, whose hands tried to travel up his sculpted chest when he came around the bar. Penelope didn't take particularly kind to it.

In the end she knew _she _was the special one, though. He may have only been her lover, the location they had their voracious sex in may have consisted (almost) exclusively may have been a bathroom where anyone might find out, but she knew for a fact he wasn't sleeping with anyone but her. His appetite for her was insatiable.

But what truly gave her confirmation of her status as the most important woman in his life was what he told her. When they were wrestling with each other for who was in control, he would lean close to her face, his breath hot against her cheeks, and whisper, "I'm gonna marry you someday."

Each and every time he told her, she would throw her head back and give a hearty laugh, deep and husky in her throat. "Not a chance," she would reply before demanding he fuck her. Still, despite her answer each time, it felt good to hear the words from his lips. It made her feel like she was hypnotizing him, keeping him within her grasp at all times.

As Derek got the drinks for her that the large party of men had ordered, he stared at her, his obsidian eyes boring into her and threatening to melt her to a puddle. She smiled coyly.

"Something wrong, Chocolate Thunder?" she purred. "You're looking a little…_tense_." She laughed at the expression that flashed across his face. "You look like you need a way to cool off and relax."

He didn't respond. He just placed the beers on the counter where she proceeded to put them on her tray. "Oh, don't pout, you beautiful man," she said, sticking out her lower lip. "You'll find a way of loosening up those stiff muscles. I _know _you will."

And with that, she walked off, fully intent on turning up the heat of his jealousy.

Her relationship with Derek Morgan may have consisted of nothing but being fuck buddies, but one thing she was certain of was jealousy led to fiery, passionate, rough sex that she couldn't get enough of.

_**Dave**_

David Rossi prided himself on having a good business repertoire: he had a loyal staff who felt like family, a great location, and a cook who made the best damn chicken wings in town. It was safe to say he had one of the better jobs in the world.

He loved_ Bella _Erin's. It was the perfect bar.

Just like his star-crossed lover for which it was named after.

He stared at his bar, filled with customers who were there for his famous monthly karaoke night. With hands in his pockets, he observed all his staff doing their jobs. Hotch was jamming away at the grill to fill out orders, JJ and Penelope were pleasing the customers, and Derek and Emily were getting out the drinks at an efficient pace. He smiled with pride.

As he sat at his bar, quietly observing, Emily slid over to him. "You wanna hand me that glass so I can refill your scotch?" she asked, arching a brow.

He turned to his bartender and nodded appreciatively. "Sure thing, _bella_," he said, handing the tumbler over.

Emily filled his glass, and as the amber liquid was flowing into the glass, she asked, "So…is the Missus dropping by tonight?"

He stared at his drink as it was handed back to him. "Nah," he said. "I don't see it happening."

When he thought about it, he didn't mind so much. Erin Strauss operated on Erin Strauss' time. It wasn't his place to try and change that.


	2. Morgan and Garcia Play A Game

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Morgan's POV for this one…thanks for the reviews, favorites, and follows so far, guys! I hope you like this one, too.**

After Penelope sauntered off to continue waitressing, Derek couldn't stop glaring. Some customers even avoided him and went straight to Emily because the look on his face was as dour and unforgiving as a thundercloud. The few that did end up coming to him would hurriedly throw bills down and snatch their drinks away to rush off.

A tapping on the microphone sounded, causing his head to snap up and away from Penelope as she flitted from table to table, her short skirt swishing around her thighs. At the microphone was Spencer Reid, and he was standing awkwardly in front of the karaoke machine.

"Uh, hello there," he said, waving once. "So, uh, you all know how this goes. I'm running the song selection, just let me know what you want to do, and I'll put it on if we have it. So…first come, first serve. Just no fighting for it, or you'll get bounced." He gulped and nodded. "Trust me, it's happened before."

The already crowded bar began to teem with people all grappling for the mic. One of them made a jump for the mic, but before he could get his hands on it, a woman grabbed it with a wicked grin on her face. "Ladies first, boys!" she sang out. Whipping her head in Reid's direction, she winked. "Put on Bad Romance, cutie."

Reid nodded and raised up his thumb. The karaoke track for the Lady Gaga song started blaring through the bar, and the girl singing, who was teetering on her feet already, wasn't sounding half bad. Despite her drunkenness, she was holding it together.

"Hey, buddy! Get me a beer and an order of those wings I hear so much about," a body builder of a man said, pounding one of his large fists on the bar top. His face was set in a gruff glare as he demanded his drink and food.

"Coming up, man," Derek said, getting a beer mug from behind him. As he was pouring the beer, Penelope entered his peripheral vision. Smirking, he hollered out for her. "Garcia! Yo, get your ass over here!"

Her head snapped up from taking drink orders, and she flashed him a middle finger, eliciting a cheeky smile from him in return. She returned to scribbling down an order before flashing her table a sparkly grin. The Lady Gaga song was getting to the middle as Penelope turned away from the group she was getting orders from. She'd pulled her honey-colored hair up into a high ponytail that bounced as she walked towards the bar, and her brow furrowed as she moved through the crowd.

Pursing her lips, Penelope leaned against the bar beside the customer. "What do you want?" she asked, her tone snippy and sharp on the ears. However, there was a twinkle in her eyes, telling him she was still playing their game.

"This guy wants some of Hotch's wings," he said, jerking his thumb in the direction of the body builder. "Be a doll, and get the order to our music lover." He tilted his head in the direction of the kitchen window. Hotch was bobbing his head to his music as steam was rising up from the grill. He was oblivious to everything else going on around him.

Penelope looked to her side at the man beside her and winked. "Sure thing," she said. She patted his massive shoulder. "Coming right up, sweetheart." Her eyes met Derek's again, and they flashed with a challenge. He stared at her as she sauntered off to the kitchen window to get Hotch's attention.

"She's got a nice ass on her," the customer whistled, watching the swinging of Penelope's skirt as she walked away. "Must be fun working with that every night."

Derek gritted his teeth and slid the beer across the bar. "Say another word about her, and I break your fucking nose," he growled before holding his hand out for the money. He didn't care the man he was threatening was twice his size; no one talked about Penelope like that when he was around. If they talked about her where he could hear or dared lay a hand on her, they would answer to him, one way or another.

"Cool it, tiger," the other man boomed with laughter. He studied Morgan's steel expression carefully and snorted, an amused smirk covering his face. "Damn. You've got it _bad_." Leaning in closer, he held up his left hand, and a gold band was illuminated in the blue light from behind the bar. Morgan glared at him anyway, and the man chuckled before slapping a twenty into his hand. "Keep the change. Buy her something nice."

The woman singing Lady Gaga was retrieved by her friends before she could trip over her own feet, and a (so far) sober man was getting up to dedicate a song to his fiancé. Penelope was carrying a tray away from the kitchen window where she was thanking Hotch with a thumbs up that he merely nodded to. Derek tried to watch her again as she crossed the floor, but customers dragged his attention away.

As he was pouring whiskey into a tumbler for someone, Emily shouted to him above all the noise. "You know, staring at her and not asking her out isn't going to do anything to help," she said, turning her face away to smile at a customer who was handing her money.

His head snapped in Emily's direction. "Huh?" He feigned not being able to hear her.

"Cut the bullshit," she hollered. "You know what I'm talking about." She arched a bold brow.

"Yeah? Well, why don't _you_ cut the bullshit and tell _him_ how you feel?" was Derek's snappy retort as he pointed in Hotch's direction. He grinned at Emily's mortified expression and moved to slide the whiskey over to the customer who had ordered it. Before he could turn to Emily again to antagonize her about Hotch, another customer approached the bar. It was a tall, lean woman with almond shaped eyes and dark skin, and she was smiling at him, her pearly teeth glimmering in the dimly lit bar.

"Hi," she called over the music.

He nodded to her, but before he leaned forward, he located Penelope coming towards the bar once more. A bullseye was painted on her chest that he alone could see, and he was getting ready to sink his teeth into her, literally and figuratively. Allowing a smile to slither onto his face, he leaned onto his elbows and met the other girl's eyes. "What can I get you?" he asked, eyes flicking upward to find Penelope's.

It was payback time.

Flashing the girl at the bar his most million dollar grin, he waited expectantly for her answer. Thinking it was her he was interested in, and not the waitress standing behind her, the girl smiled. "Dry martini," she said.

Winking, he grabbed a shaker. "Coming right up," he said. As he was mixing the drink, his eyes flashed upwards to Penelope. She'd chosen to take her orders to Emily at that moment, and her face was set in a sour expression. Her eyes narrowed, and he smirked. Turning back to his customer, he asked, "What's your name?" He started shaking the mixer.

"Savannah," she replied, her eyes coasting up his torso and arms. "And you are?"

He grinned. "Derek," he responded. He finished shaking the drink and opened the shaker to pour it into a glass. Sliding the glass over, he watched as she took an appreciative sip. She reached into her bag to fish out money, but he held up his hand to stop her. "Ah, ah! On the house. It's the least I could do for a gorgeous woman like you."

He was curious about how well he was doing at enraging Penelope. Based on the venomous expression on her face as her eyes trailed over Savannah as she stared at Derek hungrily, he was doing pretty well. Savannah was a pretty woman, but that wasn't what mattered to Derek. His eyes were all for Penelope.

"Well, thanks for the drink," she said, lips quirking into a smile. "I might be back for another one soon." Then she walked away through the crowd.

Penelope was lifting her tray onto her shoulder to take an order of Hotch's wings and several beers out, her lip caught between her teeth in concentration. She paid no attention to Derek as she walked away to her tables.

When she was gone, Derek continued serving drinks, forgetting all about Savannah while he served other customers. The song was changed once more, this time a duo singing Elton John. He moved next to Emily to get another bottle of Jack Daniels. As he reached for a glass, he noticed her giving him a funny look.

"What?" he snorted. "You've been giving me looks all night."

"Because you're one of the more ridiculous human beings on the planet," she responded. A woman shouted an order for two bottles of beer, and Emily leaned down to the fridge to grab them. She snapped the tops off with ease and handed them over before glancing back at Derek. "You wanna know why I say that?"

He rolled his eyes. "I get the feeling I'm gonna hear even if I don't want to," he responded, thick sarcasm coating his voice. Once Emily's mind was set on something, it was done. She would say it, whether people wanted to hear it or not.

"You bet your ass I'm telling you even if you don't want to hear," she laughed. "You come in here every night, and you play the googley-eye game with Penelope, but neither of you ever does anything about it. Both of you act like you're not interested, but you're both…._eye-fucking _each other from across the room! It drives me crazy."

That made Derek smirk. They were doing a whole lot more than that.

Emily popped the top off of a bottle and slid it to a waiting customer. Lips twitching into a smile, she added to Derek, "I swear to you, every time I see you, it looks like you are — in your own weird way — head over your heels in love with her."

Snorting, Derek shook his head. "I don't do _head over heels love,_" he joked. "My relationships last from the time the girl enters my room, to when she leaves my bed."

"That'll end when _she_ enters your bedroom," Emily said, pointing an unopened bottle of beer in Penelope's direction.

Ignoring her last comment, he grumbled, "If anyone is gonna be lecturing on being head over in heels is love with someone, it shouldn't be you. How long have you been into our master chef over there?"

The moment he mentioned Hotch, Emily shut down and glared at him. Derek just laughed.

XXXXX

After an hour of karaoke singing by both drunk and sober customers, the bar was getting less busy. But even though he was less busy now that pitchers of beer were served to everyone, Derek was feeling more and more antsy. Penelope had been flitting around from customer to customer, and for the majority of her orders she'd gone to Emily to have them filled out. The most Derek got out of her was a flirtatious smile or a narrowed eye when he would get chatty with other girls.

He was craving more.

"Em, I'm taking a break," Derek called, heading around to the other side of the bar. "Take care of the orders."

"I get any tips they give," she warned, raising her brows at him.

Tips were the last thing on Derek's mind right then. He gave her a thumbs up, and moved through the people. He could hardly believe his luck when he saw the table Penelope was at. Grinning devilishly, Derek started for her direction and stepped up behind her. His fingers brushed subtly against the bottom of her skirt. A shiver raced through her, and she turned around, a look of bemused surprise on her face.

Excitement poured out of her eyes, unbridled and fiery hot. He could come undone with one look in her direction if he wasn't careful. Forcing himself to look away, he smirked to himself at the next thing he was about to do. She was already looking ready for fun, but he wanted to take things further.

"Ladies," he said in greeting, leaning against the back of one of the empty chairs. He nodded to the group of three women, glancing at Penelope from the corner of his eye.

"Oh, how convenient," Penelope chirped, touching his shoulder with the tips of her nails. "I was just about to bring these orders to you, but since you're here…"

Derek held his hands up. "Nope, I'm on break," he said smugly. Finding the girl across the table he had come to find, he prayed he would get her name right. If he got it wrong, the whole act would crumble. "I came to ask Sarah if she wanted to dance." He flashed a pearly grin at her, hoping to dazzle her into accepting.

An smile spread easily across her face like bare feet gliding on ice, however it could see the annoyance glistening in her eyes. Apparently, she thought her name was unforgettable. "It's Savannah," she flared.

Grimacing, he nodded his head in apology. "The music's loud in here," he called over the din of karaoke music. "I guess I didn't hear you right." Offering a hand, he grinned. "Let me make it up to you by showing you my moves."

He could smell the jealousy coming of Penelope before he ever saw her face. When Savannah took his hand and they started for the crowd of people dancing, he caught sight of Penelope's expression. Her mouth was agape in shock. Abruptly, she clamped it shut and glared at him. Instead of amusement now, her eyes were full of incensed fury. Derek led his dance partner away from the table, feeling rather entertained merely by the thought of Penelope's expression. Just the thought of it lit his blood on fire.

Wordlessly, Derek put his arms around Savannah's waist and began moving their hips to the music. Savannah sidled her arms around his torso, hands snaking up his shoulder blades. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine his arms were around the lush, jasmine-scented woman he couldn't escape. Eventually, he realized no amount of dancing with this woman would be the same as the one he desired.

Shifting both of them, he positioned their bodies so he had a view of Penelope. His eyes snapped open, and he expected her to be standing there with anger and envy written over her face. She was gone though, and he almost stopped mid-dance. His eyes scanned the throngs of people for her. A group was singing at the karaoke machine while bar-goers drank, ate, and danced. At the bar stood Hotch and Emily, both of them looking like they were having an awkward conversation. But no Penelope, yet.

Only after a few moments of searching and missteps in his dancing did he find her again…in the arms of another man.

He stopped without warning, causing Savannah to trip as well. A volcano of anger erupted inside him, pouring through his body as he watched her pull the other man's arms around her from behind. He recognized her partner as Mick Rawson, a regular at _Bella _Erin's who was friends with Emily. Rawson, a notorious ladies man and bachelor, seemed more than a little ecstatic at grinding and swaying with Penelope.

"Your moves always this shitty?" Savannah yelled jokingly.

Gaining his focus once more, Derek swayed them closer to Rawson and Penelope where she could get a clear view of his dancing. His hands drifted down to grasp Savannah's ass, and he looked up from Savannah's neck to meet Penelope's furious eyes. Her gaze burned into him like wildfire, and it caused her to do something that truly lit his blood into a frenzied and uncontrollable blaze: she took both of Rawson's hands and slid them upwards to cup her breasts.

And then she flashed him a challenging smirk, not even focusing on her dance partner.

He could swear she mouthed him a _Take that!_ but in the dim light of the bar it was hard to tell. All he knew was she was taunting him, and he wanted Mick Rawson knocked the fuck out.

When the song they were dancing to was done, Derek glanced at his watch. Jerking his thumb in the direction of the bar, he leaned closer to Savannah and said, "My break's over. Why don't you come over and get a drink?" He grinned. "Another on the house."

Following him, Savannah entangled their fingers. The gesture surprised the hell out of Derek because he'd never held another woman's hand. Well, save for Penelope when they were having sex in the bathroom. It happened a lot when she wanted him to hold her arms above her head.

When they reached the bar, Derek went around the to the back and started another martini. Hotch had returned to the kitchen, leaving Emily drinking shots with customers. However, she seemed to have only half her energy in it. It made Derek wondered what happened with them that caused her to look so downcast and like her picnic had been rained out.

"Ice-T!" Penelope came up to the bar with a glare on her face. "Get me two Cosmos," she ordered. Her voice was sharper than knives as it cut through the new karaoke song. "Chop, chop with it."

Derek wasn't surprised at all with her behavior. His arms and hands had just been traveling over another woman's body. Both of their dances with other people was going to pay off much later. Currently though, he was going to have to deal with her rage.

"Um, excuse me," Savannah snapped at Penelope, tilting her head towards the waitress. "Who do you think you are to talk to him like that?"

Penelope smirked at her. "Oh, honey," she purred, "you have no idea who I am."

That made a cheeky grin burst across Derek's face. Boy, oh boy did Savannah have no idea.

Savannah's face soured, but she said nothing more. Clearly, Penelope's tone had knocked her down a few pegs. However, she remained planted in her seat, even after Penelope was gone to serve others. Derek continued making drinks, all the while chatting with Savannah. Every time Penelope returned, her expression was furious. Of course, he couldn't control himself either; she was engaging in spicy flirting whenever she was in view of Derek.

Around one in the morning, Derek's jealousy was beginning to get the better of him, and it threatened to boil over when Penelope appeared at the bar, Mick Rawson in tow, flirting shamelessly with him.

"Handsome, you've got to see it to believe it," she said. "If you saw how gorgeous the lace was, you'd fall in love with me right away.

Rawson laughed and rested his hand on the small of her back, his hand dangerously close to her ass. Derek wanted to kick his ass right out of the bar so hard it would bruise. Plus, he was the only one she called "Handsome." Now she'd given it to a customer who'd she'd never given the time of day.

"Morgan, get me some Oberon in a pitcher," she commanded. "I've got a table that wants one, and they want it now."

"Comin' up, sweetheart," Derek snapped with a scowl. He filled the pitcher up and handed it to her, the tips of their fingers brushing as the transferred the beer from one of them to the other. Shocks tickled his insides, and yet again he was pissed at Rawson.

She smirked as he handed the full pitcher to her. "Why, thank you cupcake," she chirped with sarcasm lacing her voice. As she meandered off into the crowd with Rawson tailing behind her, a devious plot was forming into Derek's mind. Savannah had started speaking once more, bitching about Penelope's behavior. Her words didn't reach his ears.

Finally, after devising exactly how his plan would work, he looked at Savannah and grinned wickedly. "Hold that thought," he interrupted. "I'm gonna do something."

Before she could say anything in protest, Derek motioned to Emily to hold down the fort before bounding off like an excited puppy toward the karaoke machine.

**Next one is Emily's POV! I'd love a review if you have a moment :)**


	3. Emily In The Friendzone

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Here's the Emily POV! It overlaps with the events from the previous chapter. I hope you'll like it. I appreciate the reviews, follows, and favorites on it so far :)**

Spencer Reid possessed an adorable awkwardness that was endearing to Emily. Every karaoke night brought it out in him, and it made her chuckle whenever she saw it.

He waved to everyone, tugging at his shirt collar. "Uh, hello there," he began. "So, uh, you all know how this goes. I'm running the song selection, just let me know what you want to do, and I'll put it on if we have it. So…first come, first serve. Just no fighting for it, or you'll get bounced. Trust me, it's happened before."

Emily remembered the specific time he was talking about. A fight had ensued up at the microphone, and both Hotch and Morgan had gone up to try and help the bouncer break it up. Hotch had ended up with a broken nose and was forced to get driven to the ER by Emily to get it fixed.

"Can I get a beer, Emily?"

Looking up from the drink she was mixing, Emily's eyes found those of her friend, Mick Rawson. She grinned at him, stirring the rest of the drink. "Well, if it isn't my favorite Brit," she purred. "How've you been?" She held out her fist to bump with his.

"I'm well, Emily darling," he replied cheekily. "Very well. I'm off for a week, and ready to get my drink on. _Which _is why I'm over here…have a shot with me, doll, before you get me that beer."

Batting her eyelashes, she deposited the drink she had been making to its respective customer and turned to Rawson again. "I'm honored," she said, tipping her head to him. Pulling up two shot glasses, she filled them. "Here ya go, my good sir." She raised her shot glass. "Cheers."

"Cheers," Rawson echoed. They clinked glasses and downed the shots. The He grinned cheekily at her. "Now how 'bout that beer?" Grinning at him, Emily started pouring him his beer. He leaned against the counter as she was doing it. "Hey, so how're things going with your knight-in-brooding-armor? Any luck on that front?"

Frowning at Rawson, Emily arched a brow. "Do not make me spit in your beer," she snapped. "I never should have told you about that."

"Ah, well, drunkenness is a bitch," he laughed. "You're just unlucky that I don't forget things when I get shit-faced."

Emily glanced behind her at the kitchen window where Hotch was still working diligently. She sighed before turning back to Rawson. "Unfortunately for me, Mick, he doesn't really like me. I don't know what I'm doing wrong, but every time I see him, he's so stand-offish." She handed over his beer.

He used his finger to motion for her to come closer. Sighing, she humored him and set her elbows on the bar. "You, darling," Rawson said, tapping her nose, "are a complete catch, and if Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Holden Caulfield doesn't seen that, then he's an absolute wanker."

Unable to contain her laughter, Emily kissed his cheek. "That beer's on me," she said. "I appreciate it."

He raised his beer to her. "Not a problem, doll," he said before turning around to head back through the crowd.

Emily sighed. Hopefully Mick was right about Hotch. She really liked him. He was handsome, intelligent, respectful towards her and everyone else, but he kept to himself so much it was difficult to see if he liked someone or not. Most of the time when he was around her, he was so silent and his face so blank, she could barely tell if he was annoyed or simply disinterested.

As she was serving customers, she noticed the majority of the flow of them were coming in her direction. She worked furiously to fill out all their orders, but when she glanced down the bar to see why Morgan wasn't getting as many customers, she noticed why. He was glaring viciously into the crowd of customers that were dancing and talking in the bar. More specifically the men who were talking to Penelope. It made Emily roll her eyes. Here she was, having the worst luck in the world with the man she had it bad for, and Derek and Penelope were going back and forth with the googley-eye game they'd been playing for years.

That would have been much more preferable to Emily if she and Hotch could be like that. But here she was, stuck in the friendzone. And she wasn't even sure they were friends either.

As the song on the karaoke machine was changing from Lady Gaga to a romantic song someone was singing to their fiancé, Morgan was glaring after a man who'd been blatantly staring at Penelope. He kept the ferocious expression on his face, even as the massive man who'd wronged him was heading off.

He began pouring whiskey into a tumbler, and Emily called down to him, "You know, staring at her and not asking her out isn't going to do anything to help." She snickered at the expression on his face. If she could tap into his irritation, she was going to do it.

Derek glared at her, but he didn't give her any other indication he knew what she was talking about. "Huh?" he grunted, feigning confusion.

Arching a dark brow, she snapped, "Cut the bullshit. You _know _what I'm talking about."

When he fired back his reply, she was too shocked to give a witty retort. "Yeah? Well, why don't _you_ cut the bullshit and tell _him_ how you feel?" He tilted his head toward Hotch. Emily was thankful for the fact Hotch's head was down as he concentrated on his cooking, his head bobbing up and down to his music.

Swallowing hard, Emily turned back to a new customer. Her face didn't get red often, and usually she had a snarky reply to whatever Morgan tossed her way, but at that moment, nothing came to mind. Sulking, she continued giving drinks to people, glancing over at Hotch every so often to see what he was doing. Currently he was handing a basket over to JJ and nodding to her.

Why couldn't Hotch talk to her, or at least look her in the eye? Anytime she tried speaking to him, he averted his gaze so she would end having to look around awkwardly.

The night continued on, drink orders coming in and drink orders leaving to go to the people who wanted them. All around her, the bar was bustling with activity. Bar-goers were drinking and laughing, or some people were dancing to the varying levels of on-key or off-key singing. Down the bar from her, Morgan and Garcia were engaged in a battle of jealousies and who could make the other greener with it, and Hotch was bobbing his head up and down to whatever he was listening to on his iPod.

As an Elton John song started up on the karaoke machine, Derek huffed and looked over at Emily. "What? You've been giving me looks all night?"

Emily glared at him. She was giving him looks because she was pissed as hell at him for not realizing what he had with Penelope, while she was begging for a bone of anything from Hotch.

"Because you're the most ridiculous human beings on the planet," she snapped.

"Hey, honey," a woman on the other side of the bar called to Emily. "I need two Blue Moons!"

Leaning down, Emily grabbed two bottles of beer from a fridge and popped the tops off of them. "Here you go," she said, handing the beers over and taking the money from the woman. She redirected her gaze to him. "You wanna know why I say that?"

Derek rolled his eyes. "I get the feeling I'm gonna hear it even if I don't want to," he groaned.

"You bet your ass I'm telling you even if you don't want to hear," she answered with a deep and bitter laugh. She was tired of her friends' behavior when they had it easy and she was dealing with the sting of rejection. "You come in here every night, and you play the googley-eye game with Penelope, but neither of you ever does anything about it. Both of you act like you're not interested, but you're both…._eye-fucking _each other from across the room! It drives me crazy." She furiously bit her lip to keep from hollering at him in a serious way that would change the mood of the evening for the whole bar. It took all her energy not to go over and throttle Derek. Once again, her eyes were drawn to Hotch, and a feeling of soreness slithered into her heart like an insidious snake.

Hotch merely went on bobbing his head, cooking his famous chicken wings.

She looked back at Derek. There was a smirk on his face that was saying something she couldn't quite read, but she knew her friend well enough to know he was thinking about Penelope. Her annoyance was only growing with him, even if he was one of her best friends. Instead of shouting at him, though, she gave him a tight smile. "I swear to you, every time I see you, it looks like you are — in your own weird way — head over your heels in love with her," she taunted. If he was going to give her shit about Hotch, she was going to give him shit about Penelope.

Her last accusation struck gold, and she snickered wickedly at his expression. Payback was oh, so sweet. "I don't do _head over heels love,_" he grumbled defensively. "My relationships last from the time the girl enters my room, to when she leaves my bed."

Pointing a bottle in the direction of Penelope in the crowd, Emily snorted, "That'll end when _she_ enters your bedroom."

Once again, though, Derek knew the exact way to get back at Emily. "If anyone is gonna be lecturing on being head over in heels is love with someone, it shouldn't be you. How long have you been into our master chef over there?" A challenge flared up like a firework in his eyes.

Emily's eyes went wide as plates. She glanced at the "master chef" that Derek was referring to and gulped. He'd finally looked up and was observing her and Derek's conversation. He arched a brow, and for a moment Emily thought he'd heard what they were talking about. However, his earphones were still in, and his gaze didn't linger on them much longer than a few seconds.

_Whew. He didn't hear us, _she thought with a large sigh of relief.

XXXXX

After another hour of karaoke singers, drinks, and wings, Morgan was going around the other side of the bar. He had a devious look on his face that made Emily roll her eyes. When he turned to her, he raised a hand to get her attention.

"Em, I'm taking a break," he hollered. "Take care of the orders."

"I get any tips they give," she replied snippily. She was still pissed at him for almost alerting Hotch to their conversation. Any money that was supposed to be his was going in her pocket without a second thought. However, Derek didn't seem to care at all. He just flashed her a thumbs up and dashed off like an excited toddler to do God-only-knew-what.

Even though Derek had gone off, and Emily was taking any tips that would have gone to him, the flow of people had slowed down significantly. Most of the customers already had drinks and were dancing to the people singing at the karaoke machine. As Emily was working, her flow stopped long enough for her to start wiping down the bar.

"How's your evening going right now?" a voice said from behind her.

Emily jumped slightly and turned around. Standing bedside her, fiddling with his earbuds, was Hotch. He'd turned his hat around so it was backwards on his head, and he was studying the crowd with watchful eyes. Her stomach fluttered when he crossed his arms over his chest and his arm muscles stood out. A parched, cotton-dry feeling entered her mouth, and she gulped.

"Oh…uh, hi," she said, waving awkwardly with the towel she was using to wipe the bar down with. "Fine, I suppose. What about you? How's the cooking gone?" She attempted a charming smile, but she was sure it was coming off as tense and awkward.

"Well, it's slowed down a lot, considering everyone, including one of the waitresses who brings in most of the orders for the food, is dancing," he said. It was difficult to tell if he was being sarcastic or not, but she giggled uncomfortably anyway just in case. When she looked out over the dance floor, she caught sight of Penelope and Derek, both dancing with other people and attempting to out-show the other with jealousy.

"Those two are —" Emily began.

"Ridiculous," he finished for her. "Yeah, I know." He glanced over at her and gave her a small smile, one so minuscule she was unsure if it was actually a smile. Even if it wasn't much, she liked it. It was heartwarming in a way that she couldn't quite pinpoint, but it made her feel like she was surrounded by a cozy and secure sweater.

There was something about Aaron Hotchner's smile that made Emily feel good.

Deciding to go out on a limb, she feigned confidence and lightly punched his arm. "Are you smiling?" she said with faux-astonishment. "Is Aaron 'Hotch' Hotchner actually giving me a _smile_?" She grinned cheekily. "To what do I owe the honor of getting a smile from you?"

He chuckled. "Well, I guess I don't really smile a lot," he said. "I try and save them up."

She turned to lean against the bar and study him. "Why would you save up smiles?" she asked. "You have such a nice one. You shouldn't save them up, you should give them out." To emphasize her point, she grinned brilliantly at him.

Shifting uncomfortably on his feet, Hotch averted his eyes once more. "Uh, I try to keep them for my son, Jack," he said, softly. "I guess."

Emily's jaw dropped. "Huh?" she blurted. "You have a _son_?" She was startled. Stoic, chicken-wing cooking, never-smiling Hotch had a child? She never would have guessed. What more, though, was how he managed to keep such a huge secret from the whole staff at the bar. A slight pang of dejection hit her as well. A son likely meant a significant other, as well. "But…how did you keep that a secret? I mean, I had no idea you were even married!"

Hotch shook his head. "Oh, no," he said. "No, I'm not married anymore. Haley and I divorced a few years ago. We didn't really work. Got married young, didn't really think things through…that sort of thing." His face became eerily still.

"Why?" she wondered, not realizing she'd spoken it aloud. She couldn't believe anyone would want to divorce from someone like Hotch. The idea astounded her.

He shrugged before leaning on his elbows on the bar and string out at the dancing crowds. "Eh, I guess I didn't smile enough for her." He turned to look at her with a serious expression, and all she could do was blink at him. What did she say to that? Out of nowhere a smile broke out on his face again. "I was joking," he teased. "Haley and I just didn't…work. We tried, but it wasn't enough for us."

"I had a relationship with a guy named Ian Doyle," she said, not thinking about what she would say before blurting it out, "and it did _not _go well either. He was actually pretty awful. I was so scared of him it wasn't even funny." She had never told anyone at work about this, but around Hotch she felt safe enough to trust him with the information of her least successful, borderline abusive relationship.

"Huh?" Hotch turned to her with shock on his face. "He…he…" His voice trailed off.

Immediately Emily knew she'd made a mistake by telling him that. Coughing uncomfortably, she averted her eyes once more. _C'mon, c'mon! I need a customer to get me out of this hole I dug myself into!_

Someone up above answered her wishes. A group of people came up, all rowdy and tipsy. "Sweetie, get us some shots! We need 'em!" one of them sputtered, stumbling against the bar.

Sighing, Emily turned to apologize for shutting the awkward conversation down, but Hotch was already walking away. She could have slapped herself in the forehead for letting things slip. So instead of dealing with how she was feeling, she began downing shots with the group who'd asked for them.

When Derek returned with some Barbie doll he was using to make Penelope jealous, Emily groaned internally, wishing Morgan could see that things were easy for him while she was stuck in the friendzone….if she even qualified as Hotch's friend.

**Next POV is Penelope!** **Hope you liked this one :)**


	4. Couldn't Wait For Last Call

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**New bar story addition, this time from Penelope's POV. We'll have Hotch's after this, then an epilogue. Thank you very much to all who have read, reviewed, followed, and favorited the story. It means a lot to me!**

**Caution: Rated M.**

"Excuse me, everyone!"

Penelope was shocked when she heard Derek Morgan's voice break out over the microphone. She halted in the middle of carrying an empty pitcher back to the bar as soon as his voice rang out through the bar. Her mouth fell open. She could only imagine what he was doing up at the microphone. After an evening of watching Derek strut around with the girl whose name he'd messed up, she was more than ready to get his hands up her skirt. The Savannah girl could look, but at the end of the night it was Penelope who Derek wanted.

Whatever he was doing that required he get the attention of all the customers had to have something to do with their little game. He wouldn't draw this much attention to himself unless it was important.

"So, I've never done this shit before," he began, flashing everyone his million dollar grin. His teeth were sparkling, blinding Penelope even from halfway across the room.

A woman who was drunk off her ass leapt to her feet and threw her arms in her air, screaming, "Take off your shirt, handsome!"

_Take off your shirt, bitch, so I can use it to strangle you_, Penelope screamed in her head at the screaming woman when Derek threw his head back and laughed. She crossed her arms over her chest to watch the spectacle of Derek at the karaoke microphone.

"Like I was saying, I've never done this shit before," Derek went on, pointing at the crowd of people who were gathered around to see their favorite bartender at the mic. "But I'm doing this shit _now_, because there's a very important lady in my life right now. And I wanted to do something _way _out of my comfort zone and sing her a little something." He grinned as he nodded to Spencer Reid at the controls. The sounds of Lifehouse's "Falling In" started playing, and cheers erupted from drunken bar goers.

At first, warm tingles broke out all over Penelope's skin. Waves of pleasure swept through her in that moment because Derek was about to sing to her for all the bar to hear. She was the one who had introduced him to the song that he was about to sing for her.

But then she noticed something that caused her gut to drop. He wasn't looking in her direction at all. His eyes were focussed on the bar, and Savannah who was sitting there. She was blushing prettily into her hands. Most of the customers were too drunk to notice he was singing to, but Penelope saw. Red hot flashes of jealousy spun in pinwheels through her body, and she was furious. Derek couldn't carry a tune to save his life, but he kept his eyes glued to Savannah, a silly grin plastered on his face. This was unlike anything he'd done before, and if he was trying to make Savannah believe he was interested in _her_, then he was doing a bang up job of it.

So good, Penelope was thinking it, too.

Hurt flooded her body. Shaking with anger, she headed back towards the bar to find Emily. She'd completely neglected a table to listen to Derek's horrible singing of a song that wasn't for her. The sore feeling in her heart was making no sense to her. This was bound to happen one day. Their relationship wasn't an exclusive one by any means, so one day he was likely to find a girl he would drop Penelope for. She found it hard to believe someone like Savannah was that girl, but if it happened, she wasn't going to beg him to stay in their fuck buddy relationship.

"Em," she croaked when she got to the bar. She put the empty pitcher down and slid it towards Emily. "I need a refill on this one." Emily's dark eyes met Penelope's as she took the pitcher. She studied her face, lips twitching into a smirk. Rolling her eyes, Penelope leaned against the counter. "Spit it out, Prentiss. You look like you're _bursting _with something to say."

Emily grinned widely, her smile twinkling with a mischievous glint. "You," she laughed. "You're honestly _jealous _of that travesty?" She nodded her head in the direction of Derek who was taking several bows and listening to whistles of people in the intoxicated crowd.

Glaring, Penelope faked confusion. "What the hell are you talking about?" she groused, averting her eyes.

"You can't really believe that Barbie doll is what he wants," Emily clarified. "That man is so head over heels for you there's no room for any other girl."

Penelope snorted. "Derek Morgan does not do _head over heels_," she said immediately. Emily's smile made her roll her eyes. "Okay, spit it out. You've obviously got something to tell me."

"He said the exact same thing when I told him he was head over heels for you." She grinned. "You two clearly think on the same wave length. Just get together already. What do you have to lose?"

Feeling a blush flare up on her face, Penelope took the now-full pitcher of beer and stalked off to return to the table who'd ordered the table that ordered it. She didn't bother to respond to Emily. By now, Derek was done singing and had left the microphone area. She didn't know where he had gone, but she was about to find out. After dropping the beer off at it's respective table, she pocketed her tip and started heading back towards the bar. When she looked up, though, her mouth dropped open. Derek had returned to his place at the bar, and Penelope had turned around just in time to see Savannah throw her arms around Derek's neck and plaster her lips to his. Derek seemed shocked and stiff at her touch, but Penelope had seen enough. She couldn't believe it, but tears were flooding her vision.

Mouth falling open, she searched wildly for her fellow waitress, JJ. When she located her, she hurried over and shook her shoulder. JJ turned around, and her face immediately became concerned. "Penelope!" she said, putting her hand on her shoulder. "Oh my God, what's wrong?"

Shaking her head, Penelope wiped her cheeks hurriedly. "I need you to take my tables," she said hoarsely, shaking her head as she ran off. She felt bad for shoving her tables on JJ, but she couldn't serve any tables with her eyes dripping tears. Shoving her way into the bathroom, she looked underneath the stalls to make sure no one was there to hear her cry. Everyone was so preoccupied with the karaoke night that no one was in there, though.

She didn't know why she was so upset. Derek was her fuck buddy, she herself called him that. She wasn't supposed to be upset about this. But she couldn't help it. Gone would be the sex she loved so much, gone would be the teasing they threw back and forth all evening.

Gone would be him whispering in her ear that one day he would marry her.

Penelope swallowed past the lump in her throat and wiped the tears from her eyes. Across the bathroom, she heard the door swing open. Forcing her chin down to her chest, she tried hiding her face so whoever had entered would not see her face. God forbid it be Savannah. It would only be the cherry on top of the sundae that was her evening for that woman to see her weeping.

However when a pair of strong, bulky arms wrapped around her from behind and kiss was placed on her neck, she jumped slightly. She looked up into the mirror and saw none other than Derek holding her, dotting her neck and shoulder with wet kisses.

"What're you doing in here?" he murmured in a husky voice, nibbling on her ear lobe. "The night's not done yet. We're not supposed to be in here 'til last call."

Searing, red hot fury blazed through her, and she elbowed him roughly to get him off of her. He grunted and backed up from her. "Get your hands off me, you — you _pig_!" she hissed. Flirting was their game, not making out with customers and serenading them. He'd be lucky if she ever let him give her a kiss on the cheek after this.

He blinked at her multiple times. "What — why…" he sputtered, his voice trailing off as he stared at her in confusion.

She threw her hands up in the air. "What do you mean what and why?" she snapped. "You really think I'm gonna be your little fucking — in every sense of the word, I'll add — secret when you have your tongue down Barbie's throat?" She huffed and laughed bitterly. "You're _serenading _her, too? I bet you're glad I introduced you to that song now. It's really funny to me, considering you called it mediocre before."

Shaking his head, Derek began to laugh. He rubbed his face, and she stared at him like he was a lunatic. "Oh my God," he chuckled.

Placing her hands on her hips, Penelope rolled her eyes. "What? What the hell is so funny?" she demanded.

Derek prowled forward, a predatory look in his eyes. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her so she couldn't wriggle out of his grasp. Tilting her head back, he kissed her with scalding lips, his tongue sliding into her mouth. Despite the sweet taste of his mouth that she loved so much, she pushed back against him. When that didn't work, she bit down on his lip.

Yelping, he backed up. She smirked and crossed her arms over her chest. "I told you: don't touch me."

He touched his lip. "You bit me?" he sputtered.

"I didn't even break your skin, you big whiner," she spat. When he strode forward to her, she rolled her eyes. Why was he still trying to kiss her? She was making it abundantly clear she didn't want him touching her. "Do you _want _me to break your lip open? 'Cause I'll do it!"

Wrapping her in his arms once more, he leaned in and whispered in her ear, "Do you really think she's what I want?" He thrust his hips into her thighs, and she felt he was rock hard. Despite her insistence on being angry with him, his arousal excited her. She cursed herself for being so weak at being tempted to give into her desire. "Do you really think I was kissing her back?" His hands cupped her breasts, and he placed a kiss on the side of her neck. "That song was for you, Baby Girl. It's all for you."

The fire inside Penelope reignited with a passion, and she leaned her head back to study his face. Sincerity was plastered on his features, and she knew he'd spoken every word true. Was Emily right? _Did _he feel head over heels for her, love her?

His eyes were telling her that yes, he did love her.

And what was more, she realized that all her feelings of rage at Savannah were because she didn't want Derek with anyone but her. She loved him, too.

Lifting her arms up, she gave him another hard shove in the chest, but this time, she followed him as he stumbled backwards. Despite his shocked face, she gave him another push so that he fell against the wall with a thud. He looked concerned she might hit him, but instead she crashed their lips together, ripping at the buttons of his shirt. A deep chuckle rumbled in his throat as he returned the fiery kiss, throwing kerosene on the flames. Her hands roamed beneath the fabric of his shirt, tracing his well defined muscles she knew every inch of like they were the streets of her hometown. He pulled at the bottom of her shirt and yanked it up over her head tossing it across the bathroom. She was wearing a sky blue, lace sheer bra that her nipples were begging for attention under. He pushed her back against the counter and lifted her up to sit on in. She wrapped her legs around his hips and continued to devour him. His fingers deftly pulled one cup of her bra down, and his lips began to trail down until he latched onto her budded peak.

"Oh, hell," she breathed, her head falling back against the mirror as he suckled. His hands started sliding beneath her mini skirt, stroking the soft flesh there. He stroked the front of her panties, and she whimpered at the shock waves that shot through her. "Please…"

"Please what, Baby Girl?" he said in between nips at her breasts. His hands massaged her thighs, pressure increasing with each touch.

Her hands shot to his belt, and she unbuckled it. "Make love to me," she growled, unzipping his jeans, freeing his marble hard length. She wrapped her hand around him and grinned wickedly at his groan.

"Anyone could walk in," he warned.

She shook her head vigorously and shifted so she could rip her panties off. "Let them," she whispered, pulling him close to kiss him again. "You're mine, and the sooner people know that, the better."

Derek grinned before pulling Penelope to the edge of the counter to give him easier access to her. She pushed his pants down so they dropped to his ankles. Proof of her desire was washing down her thighs, and he tweaked her clit several times before pressing into her in one swift stroke. Penelope moaned softly, gripping the back of his neck. He was going slowly, too slowly to match her heated desire. But at the same time it made her realize something: he was doing exactly what she told him to do. He was making love to her.

Tingles were spreading like wildfire through her body. Derek buried his face in her neck, continuing his steady rhythm. His teeth gently nipped at her neck, and she knew there were going to be love bites there soon. "Fuck you're tight, Baby Girl," he growled. "So fucking tight."

He pushed further into her, and she threw her head back once more. Her nails dug into his skin, and her eyes rolled back in her head. "Jesus," she moaned. Pulling his head up from her breasts, she kissed him deeply. Their tongues danced together, and she pulled him closer with her legs, enveloping him with her body. When she'd had her fill of tasting him, she urged him to return his attention to her breasts. She rested her cheek against the top of his head and closed her eyes, savoring the feeling of his tender arms wrapped around her and gentle movement inside her body.

A noise from across the bathroom drew Penelope's eyes upwards. Derek didn't notice anything; his face was buried in her neck, murmuring softly and nipping at her skin. However, Penelope _did_ notice.

Standing across the room in the doorway to the bathroom was a shellshocked Savannah. Her mouth dropped to the floor, and her eyes were stretched across her face. Penelope couldn't help herself. She smirked at the other woman, cupping the back of Derek's head possessively. To drive her message further, she took Derek's chin gently and pulled his face up to kiss him. As their lips met and danced, she heard the door shut, but didn't bother to look up.

She knew Savannah had gotten the message. She didn't need visual confirmation.

"I gotta go faster," he growled, his voice shaking as he fought to stay in control. His hands tightened on her hips, and he kissed her again. She felt giddy at the barely leashed desire in his lips.

"Do it," she said swiftly. "Make me come." He kissed her once more, increasing the speed of his hips. The friction building in her body as he pumped in and out of her was pushing her closer and closer to the edge. Her bloodstream was on fire, and she held him tightly. Moving her lips to his ear, she hissed, "I'm so close, Derek! Don't hold back on me."

He laughed. "Never," he panted, returning his lips to hers. And as soon as the words left his mouth, he slid his hand between their bodies and stroked her center with the lightest brush of his finger. With that single, feather light touch, she exploded. It was smart thinking of him to kiss her before touching her pussy. His lips covered her scream of ecstasy, swallowing it whole so no one would hear them. Seconds later, he himself groaned as he spilled his release inside of her.

They remained intimately connected for several long moments, both of them panting and breathing heavily. She leaned back and sat up straight, looking him in the eye before cupping his face and kissing him again. Sex between them had never been like this before. It was as if the moment she acknowledged how she felt, everything became more intense. She wanted nothing more than to wrap herself around him and never let him go. And that was precisely what she did.

"I'm gonna marry you someday," he murmured as she hugged him to her.

Looking him in the eye again, she pecked his lips. Instead of responding with her usual, "Not a chance" though, she murmured, "Maybe you will."

XXXXX

After last call and money was counted in the register, Penelope was packing her bag in the staff room to go home. The rest of the evening had wrapped up slower than she wanted it to. Time seemed to drag by after she and Derek readjusted their clothing and exited the bathroom. They continued working and serving customers, neither of them seeing any sign of Savannah or the group she'd come with. Nothing could have made Penelope happier that night.

Eventually, though, the night came to a close. She wrapped herself in her coat and started out of the staff room. On her way out, she spotted her boss at the bar, a tumbler of scotch in his hand and a cigar between his lips. Smiling, she went up to him and nudged his shoulder. "Hey you," she said, leaning against the bar. "You gonna leave soon? Or are you gonna wait 'til Kevin is done cleaning up?" She jerked her thumb in the direction of Kevin Lynch, the janitor who cleaned up after last call.

Rossi puffed on his cigar. "I'm gonna finish the scotch I think," he said. He glanced at his watch. "You heading out of here? It's almost four in the morning."

Sighing dramatically, she nodded. "Yes," she drawled. "I gotta get some shuteye. I've got myself a doctor's appointment at noon." Her grin brightened on her face. "You gonna see the Missus anytime soon?" Penelope had only met David Rossi's star-crossed lover and the namesake of the bar once or twice, and truth be told the woman scared the hell out of her. But Dave loved the woman with his whole heart, so Penelope found it in her to like her.

Rossi arched a brow at her. "What has you so happy right now?" he asked, going around the question about Erin.

Penelope felt a blush crawl up her face. She couldn't very well tell him the real reason she was so giddy. Instead, she shrugged, feigning innocence. "Ah, not much," she squeaked. "I'm just a little slap happy." She yawned. "I'm headed for the door. I'll see you tonight!"

Shaking his head, Dave sipped his scotch and laughed. "Have a good night, Penelope."

On her way out, Penelope waved to Hotch and Emily, both of whom were sitting together and laughing with beers in their hands. The sight of Hotch loosening up was heartwarming to her, and she didn't even mind that neither of them noticed her waving at them.

As she was walking out into the chilly fall air, Penelope headed towards her car. Her heels clicked against the asphalt, and she felt like skipping with all the ooey-gooey feelings coursing through her.

"You've got a little bounce in your step."

Whirling around, Penelope saw Derek leaning against his car. His hands were in his jacket pockets, and a million dollar grin was covering his face. She stopped in her tracks and smiled. "I do?" she asked coyly.

He nodded and pushed off from leaning on his car. Walking forward, he stopped in front of her and pulled her into him, kissing her softly. His lips lingered against hers, tingles lingering behind his touch. He cupped her face in his hands, and she wrapped her arms around his waist. There was a torrent of feeling behind his lips, and she loved it.

"What was that for?" she giggled.

Derek smiled softly. "Come home with me," he whispered. "Spend the night with me…in my bed."

"It's morning, you charming devil," she teased.

He laughed, but his face became serious a moment later. "I'm serious," he said, tucking a stray tendril of hair behind her ear. "I should have taken you home a long time ago. You deserve better than that bathroom."

Biting her lip, Penelope looked up and chuckled. "Speaking of that bathroom, I feel bad for Kevin…having to clean up after us and all," she mused. When she noticed his lost little boy look, she sighed and intertwined their fingers. She brought his hand up to her face and kissed the back of his hand. "Yes. Of course, I'll come home with you. But you have to buy me breakfast in the morning."

With a face lighting up in a grin, Derek pulled her fully into his embrace and kissed her fiercely. "It's a deal," he murmured, leading her towards his car. As they walked, Penelope knew she was entering a whole new chapter of her life, and hopefully a long one.

**Hotch's POV is next! Please leave a review if you have a moment…your feedback is always appreciated :)**


	5. Miscommunication

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**I apologize for the delay in posting this chapter. Hotch's POV is the one I am most nervous to write because characterizing him is slightly more difficult for me. I appreciate the reviews and reading very much!**

Hotch was washing his hands at the sink in the kitchen, the sound of the Eagles blaring in his headphones. He wiped his hands with a clean dishtowel and went to look at what was going on in the bar. What he saw almost made him laugh. Up at the microphone was Derek, grinning shamelessly into the crowd. His lips were moving, but Hotch couldn't tell what he was saying because of his music. However when he caught sight of Penelope's fallen face and Derek's gaze at a very pretty woman at the sitting at the bar, he knew it had something to do with her.

Rolling his eyes, he went to the back and opened the door to step outside into the cool air. It was fall, so the air was cool and nippy. He looked up at starry sky and let out a deep breath, watching as his breath became visible in a puff. Leaning against the brick of the building, he unplugged his headphones so he could stare upwards in peace and quiet. He was excited for the night to be over so he could go and get a few hours sleep. Around noon he was getting to pick up Jack, and the two of them were going to spend the rest of the day together. He'd even gotten the night off from work so his son could stay the night with him.

As he was standing outside, he thought back to his conversation with Emily. She seemed so shocked that he had a son. It didn't surprise him. He didn't at all seem like the type to have a child. He was grim and stoic, something not usually found in a father according to some.

Despite his grim facade though, he'd cracked a smile.

A smile Emily liked.

Just the thought of her grinning at the fact he was smiling at her brought a smile to his face at that exact moment. A light flared up in her eyes when she told him to give out the smiles, not save them. That twinkle, that amusement of fun mischief made him warm and tingly in the gut. And Aaron Hotchner was not the type to get tingly all over. His ex-wife made sure to tell him that when they were going through their divorce.

When he saw Emily, he found it hard to believe anyone would be cruel to her. But she'd let slip about her ex-boyfriend, the boyfriend she was still legitimately afraid of. She didn't say it outright, but he knew the man she was talking about had been abusive. He didn't know whether it was physical, verbal, emotional, or a combination of the three; all he knew was it happened.

Her body language told him all he needed to know. When he read the look on her face, so full of anxious fear, he wanted to beat the living hell out of this Ian Doyle. How anyone could be cruel to someone as bright as Emily baffled him, and how someone as fearless as Emily could be frightened of someone was equally surprising. Whoever Doyle was, he must've been a mean son of a bitch to leave the brave Emily Prentiss shaking.

Sighing, he kicked a stone lying in front of him on the ground and reentered the bar. Running his hand through his hair, he went back to the window to gaze out over the bar. By now Derek's song was finished and he was taking a bow to the cheering and whistling intoxicated crowd. He sauntered back toward the bar and as soon as he reached it, the girl there threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. Derek's eyes went wide with shock, and he was stiff in her grasp. When Hotch's eyes found Penelope, she looked like she was ready to cry.

Hotch felt bad for her. Penelope was kind, and she had a good heart. Hotch enjoyed her bubbly personality. She didn't deserve any heartache. However, Derek removed the other girl from clinging to him and followed Penelope as she hurried off down the hall to the bathroom.

The sight made Hotch roll his eyes, similar to the way Emily did when she saw the spectacle Morgan and Garcia made. They were lucky to be interested in one another, while Hotch was left in the dust with the woman he wanted to know so badly. The fact he was an intensely private person didn't do him any favors. Perhaps if he could open up more and loosen his tense muscles he could gain the confidence to ask the most interesting human being he'd met to have a beer with him.

XXXXX

After Derek and Penelope returned from the hallway that led to the bathrooms, Hotch sighed. He had no idea what conversation they'd had, but based on the expressions on their faces and the closeness of their bodies, he could only imagine the talk it went well. As soon as they returned to their respective jobs, Hotch leaned his elbows against the window that overlooked the bar.

Karaoke night had always been popular at the bar, but Hotch couldn't help but feel like this one was much more crowded than usual. The orders on food had all but stopped, but several people were gathering around the bar. Emily and Derek were both swamped with orders, coming from both people going directly to them and JJ and Penelope going to tables. Hotch was pleased that he was able to relax. He'd been slaving over the hot stove, and the steam had been getting to him.

Even though it might look strange to a bystander, Hotch found himself watching Emily. She moved with ease behind the bar, smiling and throwing her head back with laughter at something Penelope was telling her as she leaned in over the bar. She had a strong, resilient heart and a personality that drew people in. He could easily see himself falling for her. She was the one person he could see other than his son who could bring him out of his stoic shell.

Rubbing his face, Hotch started out of the kitchen and toward the restrooms. When he was done relieving himself, he stared in the mirror as he washed hands. Maybe tonight he would finally ask Emily to have a beer with him. It was certainly weighing on his mind, and after their brief yet telling conversation, it only made him more eager to try his luck. Sighing, he used the paper towels to dry his hands and basketball-tossed the balled up towel into the waste basket.

Maybe not tonight. He was nervous as hell just thinking about it. _Wait for another night, _he told himself. _You'll ask at some point._

As he exited the bathroom into the long, dimly lit hallway that led back to the bar, Hotch heard the sounds of nervous laughter and protesting.

"Hank, you're wasted," a feminine voice was stating firmly. "Let go of me, and go find John. He'll drive you home."

"C'mon, dahling," the voice belonging to Hank slurred. "You're gorgeous, I'm gorgeous. Let's get it on. We all know Morgan and that waitress with the nice ass and tits that don't quit go at it somewhere in this building. Let's make it two of us."

Hotch hoped to God what Hank was saying about Morgan and Garcia wasn't true. He didn't think he would be able to touch any surface in the bar if that was the case.

The woman's voice had become hard and gritty. "Hank, let go. I'm serious."

Frowning, Hotch started for the back of the hall where he was hearing the voices. The woman's voice sounded very familiar. When he realized who the voice belonged to, he felt the blood drain from his face. Breaking into a run, he dashed to the back where there was a curtain to the staff room. In there he found Emily, backed up and looking annoyed by a drunk man who was drunkenly mouth breathing on her cheek.

Fury filled Hotch's chest, and his hands balled up into fists. "Hey!" he snapped, directing his glare toward Hank. "Back off!"

Hank stumbled around to see Hotch's thundercloud face. Giving him a slurred smile, the drunken man said, "Chicken wing man, me and this _ravishing_ lady were having an important conversation. Would you be so kind as to butt the fuck out?"

An idea sparked in Hotch's mind, and he shook his head. "No," he growled, stepping forward with a hint of danger. "Get the hell away from my girl. She's taken, and I'm taken by her. We're each other's. So back the fuck up." He hoped his eyes portrayed exactly what he felt: pure and unadulterated rage.

Shocked, Emily stared at him, mouth agape and eyebrows almost at her hairline. Hotch winked at her, confident Hank's inebriated state would prevent him from seeing it. A small smile lit up Emily's face, and she nodded.

"Is that so?" Hank slurred. "I ain't never seen you two together."

"Just because you haven't seen us together doesn't mean we aren't," Hotch growled back.

Keeping Emily trapped against the wall, Hank glared at Hotch. "Fuck you, man."

"Hey!" Emily hissed. "Don't talk to him like that!" Before Hank could do anything, she lifted her hand and slammed her palm into his nose. With a yelp, the drunkard stumbled backwards, clutching his nose. Blood was trickling between his fingers, and he was groaning the whole time. Emily wasted no time in rushing to Hotch's side. To Hotch's great surprise (and delight) she grasped his cheeks in her hands and kissed him. Her mouth tasted of spearmint and faintly of the tequila she'd been drinking with the customers. She tasted wonderful, and he found himself wrapping his arms around her slender waist, holding her close to him.

"You okay, hon?" Hotch said, breaking the kiss momentarily, continuing to play the part he'd presented to both Hank and Emily.

With twinkling eyes, Emily gave him a genuine smile. Her fingers were curled into the fabric of his shirt, and she was remaining close to him, so close her breasts were brushing against his chest. She nodded. "Yeah, babe," she murmured, cupping his cheek in her hand. "I kicked his ass." She threw a glare over at the stumbling Hank as he cupped his nose and grumbled his way out of the staff room.

Even after Hank was gone, Hotch kept his arms around Emily, and she in turn kept her arms around him. Their eyes were locked together like a tight iron door, and he held his breath, eyes flicking to a few stray tendrils of her raven hair. She did a quick intake of breath, and for a moment he thought he saw a flicker of feeling for him. When she released him, he felt an ache spread through him. He didn't know why, but he wanted to keep her against him.

Well, he did know why.

"Quick thinking," she said, rubbing her forehead. She gave off a nervous laugh, sounding like a breathy twinkling bell. Rubbing the back of her neck, she added, "I appreciate it. It was a good act."

Clearing his throat, Hotch fought against the sad sensation that tickled its way through his gut. "Um," he said. He ran a hand through his dark hair. _It wasn't an act_, he wanted to add. However he bit his tongue and kept the words from coming out. Instead, he gave a nod. "Yeah, sure. Any…" He paused. "Any time."

They stood in an awkward silence, neither meeting the other's eyes. All they heard was the sound of the karaoke goers. Hotch could feel his heart pounding in his chest. When he didn't think things could get any more awkward, he attempted to speak.

"So, I was won —" Hotch started to ask.

"Would you like —" Emily tried.

They tried to speak simultaneously, and a rare smile cracked across his face once more. He chuckled and rubbed his forehead. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"There's another smile," she teased. "What have I done to get two in one night?" There was a jesting light in her eye. She wrung her hands together. "What were you going to say?"

He felt like a burning light was shining down on him now, putting him on the spot where he felt most uncomfortable. However, he managed to open his mouth and choke words out. "I was wondering," he began, "if you would like to get a beer after last call?"

"With you?" she asked, eyes going wide.

Swallowing hard, he nodded. "Yes…with me."

A timid smile — a smile that was so unlike her usual grin — spread across Emily's face. It was just as genuine as her sparkling one, but it gave her face a softer light. He could swear he saw a rosy color rise in her lily white cheeks. "Sure," she said, finding her voice.

Instead of the nervous feeling he'd felt moments ago, a warm simmering of confidence filled his gut. Toeing at the ground with his shoe, he asked, "What were you going to ask?"

She laughed. "Well, I was actually going to ask you the same thing," she said. "I was going to ask if you wanted to have a beer…with me."

"Oh!" he said, slightly louder than he meant to be. "Okay, then." Jerking his thumb in the direction of the hall, he added, "I'm going to, uh, head back to the kitchen. I doubt anyone is ordering food, so I'm gonna start cleaning up."

Emily nodded. "Sounds good," she said shyly. As Hotch turned to go, she spoke once more. "Hotch, wait!"

He turned around and noticed the hopeful glint in her eyes. "Yeah?"

Without a word, she stepped closer to him and grasped his hand. He was so startled by the unexpected contact with her that he didn't know what to say. Her free hand touched his cheek, and her eyelids lowered as she rose to her tiptoes to press her lips to his. It was the softest brushing he could imagine, and once more her taste enthralled him. He cupped the back of her neck and returned the kiss, unable to stop himself. When she broke the kiss once more, she smiled up at him, her eyelashes still touching her cheekbones.

"I'll see you after last call," she murmured, disappearing down the hall with a smile on her face.

XXXXX

"Two cold ones," Emily said, plopping the beers down in front of Hotch as she sat on one of the bar stools. She popped the top off both beers with the bottle opener and slid his toward him. Smiling, she lifted her bottle and waited for him to lift his to clink together.

Hotch nodded. "Cheers."

"Cheers," she said with a smile.

Both of them tilted their beers to their lips and sat in silence for a moment. The bar was still and silent now, vastly different from just an hour ago when it had been packed with people and karaoke music. Hotch felt the alcohol flow down his throat and savored the taste of it. He liked this particular beer Emily had picked out. It was a darker brew, and he enjoyed his beer better when there was no color filtering through the liquid.

When he glanced back up at Emily, his eyes fell on her lips. He remembered how she tasted from before, and he wanted to feel the same sensation rolling through him that had when their lips were touching. It felt more perfect than any feeling, save for maybe holding Jack for the first time. He hadn't known how to feel true joy before that, and he didn't think he ever would again. But kissing Emily, that had brought him a feeling of pure ecstasy that he didn't want to forget.

Clearing his throat, Hotch averted his eyes to look out at the bar. JJ had already left, she and Penelope having finished wiping tables and putting chairs on top of tables; Derek was currently walking out of the building. Penelope was nowhere to be found, and their boss was just sitting down at the bar, a cigar between his lips and a glass of amber scotch in his hand. Everyone was settling down for the evening, save for the janitor, Kevin Lynch, who was getting to work.

Part of him was convinced he was gazing around the bar at everyone else's activities because he was too nervous to actually speak with Emily, despite having asked to have a beer with her.

"Hotch?"

His head snapped back in Emily's direction, and his eyebrows raised. "Sorry," he said. "I'm…" His voice trailed off as he lost the words, along with his train of thought.

Seeing that he wasn't going to break his silence, she tilted her beer to her lips and took a quick swig before speaking. "I wanted to ask you something," she murmured, folding her hands in front of her on the table like she was getting ready to lay a proposition out. It made Hotch blink several times. He knew what she was going to ask — she was going to ask why he'd kissed her — but what he didn't know was how he would answer.

"Why did you kiss me?" she asked her eyes lifting to his as she searched his face. "You could have just pulled him off me, but you…instead you said you were my boyfriend, and you kissed me."

He gulped. "Well, I…I guess I…" he stammered. Taking a deep breath, he steadied his voice and decided to plunge in. He never truly spoke what he was feeling, but right now he needed to blurt it out. "I kissed you because I wanted to." She opened her mouth to try and speak, but he put his hands on top of hers. "I'm not very big on words, but I need to say this. I…I kissed you because I think you're amazing. I've always thought that. I'm just not talkative, so I've never said anything. And I see how you are with customers and other people, and I'm just not…fun."

After he finished speaking, he wasn't quite sure how his words would affect her. When he thought about it, they weren't exactly profound, moving words. This could possibly be the worst love confession to ever be spoken.

But just when he thought things were going to drop to the floor, Emily smiled. "I kissed you because I wanted to, too," she murmured. "I always thought you didn't like me, which is why I didn't tell you anything."

"That's not it at all," he assured her hastily.

"It sounds like we just had some miscommunication," she said, sipping her beer. "Some miscommunication that I would like to get around." She swallowed. "If you would like to, I mean." When a smile spread across his face, she grinned. "There's that smile again."

Hotch nodded. "You can have all the ones you want," he murmured, eliciting a laugh from both their lips.

**I was really nervous to write Hotch's, so I hope it turned out okay.**


	6. Epilogue - Erin's Return

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**So sorry about the delay in posting this epilogue. This is the wrap up for this short little story. Thank you very much for all your reviews, follows, and favorites :) I appreciate it very much! All Rossi POV for this one. This epilogue is especially dedicated to my beta-reader/buddy CeeCee333 because she really wanted it done!**

**Note: In this story, Strauss doesn't have the same issues with alcoholism that she did on the show.**

_2 Years Later_

"Okay, before it gets busy in here, everyone gather round!" Penelope proclaimed.

"Everyone" at that moment consisted of merely Dave and JJ, but he assumed everyone else would see whatever it was she wanted them to see eventually. His lips twisted into an amused smile as Penelope hurriedly pulled up a video on her her phone and shoved it in front of them.

"What is it?" JJ asked with a laugh. Shooting her a look for speaking, Penelope pointed to the screen as it started to play with the video. JJ giggled. "Sorry."

Soon as JJ stopped speaking, the video shifted to show a little boy with a head of dark brown curls and amber eyes that was completely absorbed with his toy cars. His lips bubbled as he made _vroom_ing noises with his lips. It was Penelope and Derek's two year old son, Rhys. What Penelope thought was going to be a normal yearly checkup after one of the karaoke nights ended up delivering her the news that she was in fact pregnant. Considering the fact no one knew she and Morgan were even dating, the news had come as an extreme shock to everyone. Rossi tried his hardest to stagger the nights they worked so one of them could be home at night with their son, but on the occasions he needed them both, Rhys slept over at JJ's house with her son, Henry.

"_Rhys," _Penelope's voice cooed on the video. The little boy's face shot upwards at the sound of his mother's voice, and he giggled uncontrollably, hiding his face behind his hands. "_You hiding from me, buddy?"_

"_Yes!" _he exclaimed, giggling the whole time as Penelope got on her hands and knees and crawled towards him. When she stopped in front of him, he moved his hands from his face, flashing her and the camera his toothy toddler grin.

"_Can you wave to the camera for mama?_" Penelope asked.

Dave couldn't help himself. "Uh, Penelope. We've all seen Rhys do this in person. Why are we —" He was cut off by the glare that could have stopped a speeding semi truck Penelope shot his way.

JJ swatted his arm. "Hush!" she commanded. "It's adorable."

"Plus we haven't even gotten to the best part yet," Penelope stage-whispered over her and her son going back and forth with giggles. Pointing at the phone once again, she gave a little yelp of excitement. "Oh my God, here it is, here it is!"

Dave looked back at the camera and watched with a humorous smirk as Rhys' head was drawn up yet again by the distant sound of the door opening. "_Baby Girl? I'm home._" Derek appeared in the archway behind Rhys in the camera. A large grin that mirrored the one his son bore covered his face. "_Hey, little man!_" he said excitedly, walking swiftly into the living room so he could pick his son up.

"I still don't see how this is any different than something we've all seen before," Rossi commented dryly.

"_Shush_!" JJ and Penelope groused simultaneously.

Derek's voice on the camera was cheerful, but as he was heading into the living room, his shin rammed into the coffee table. He had been so focused on Rhys he hadn't even noticed it. All at once, his tone changed. "_Fuck_!" he cursed loudly, forgetting his two year old was standing right in front of him.

Penelope's camera focussed in on Rhys as he reached upward for Derek to pick him up. Pain still written on his face, Derek leaned down and picked up Rhys. He kissed his cheek. "_How ya been today, buddy?_" he asked, shifting his weight off the leg that he'd run into the table with.

"_Daddy, what does _fuck _mean?" _Rhys asked, blinking innocently.

"_It's a word you _and _Daddy aren't allowed to use!" _Penelope growled before the video stopped.

JJ and Penelope were laughing hysterically while Dave was shaking his head. "The things you younger people find funny," he muttered, amusement lighting up his eyes. "The funniest part of that wasn't even on the camera. I'm more wondering how you punished Derek."

"Uh, Dave, I don't really think we _want _to know how she punished him," JJ teased. "Plus, the funniest part of that whole thing was Rhys repeating it. Toddlers swearing — while it shouldn't be encouraged — is hilarious."

"What are you two talking about?" Penelope giggled. "The funniest part was him hitting his shin on the table."

Dave rolled his eyes as he laughed. "Alright you two," he said, "we've got some people coming in." He nodded his head in the direction of the doors where a whole group was entering the bar. Both women nodded before taking off to regather themselves before waiting tables for the evening. Behind the bar, Derek was wiping it down, shooting Penelope sultry grins as she worked her hardest to keep a straight face. However, nowhere in sight were the Hotchners. Almost six months ago, Hotch and Emily got married. Regulars joked about whether or not they were now supposed to call Emily "Hotch Two." Some of them, Mick Rawson included, did.

Walking up to Morgan, Dave leaned over the bar to draw his attention away from his girlfriend. "Any idea where our resident husband and wife team went off to?" he asked.

Frowning, Derek shook his head. "No idea," he said. When he finally caught sight of the group of people headed towards him, though, he groaned. "Ugh, but wherever they are, I need Emily. And likely Hotch, too. I'm more than a little sure they're going to want his wings."

Dave nodded. "I'll go find them." Heading towards the hall that led to both his office and the staff room, he caught sight of the Hotchners immediately. Emily looked anxious, something she rarely appeared outright. Hotch's hands were rubbing her upper arms, and he appeared to be attempting to comfort her.

"I just don't know if…" she was saying before her voice trailed off.

Hotch kissed her forehead. "What do you want to do?" he asked. "We could just tell Dave and —"

"Everything okay down there?" Dave called, concerned.

Both of them looked up at him. Emily gulped and nodded; beside her, Hotch shook his head. They exchanged a glance, Emily shooting her husband a dirty look. Dave could make out her mouthing something to Hotch, but he couldn't quite tell what it was she was saying.

Dave went to stand in front of them and crossed his arms over his chest, attempting to look like a stern father. Hopefully it would get the answer out of one of them. "What's going on? And don't say _nothing_ because there's obviously something." Emily sighed with reluctance, he arched a brow. "Please tell me you haven't done anything illegal."

She laughed halfheartedly. "No, no," she said quietly. "It's —"

Hotch interrupted her. "She can't drink with people tonight. And I'm probably gonna punch someone out if they pressure her to do it." Dave could have laughed at that. Aaron Hotchner punching someone would have been a sight to see. The man kept his cool so well, it made Dave wonder what an angry Hotch would look like. He got the distinct feeling he didn't want to find out. Maybe Hotch had a beast caged up inside that was named his anger, and he only let it out on rare occasions.

However as soon as realization hit Dave, his mouth dropped. "Emily, are you pregnant?" he demanded.

Biting her lip, Emily nodded. "Yeah," she muttered. "Just found out today." Unconsciously, she placed her hands over her belly. There was absolutely nothing to see, but she was already protecting her belly like she were nine months pregnant. She didn't want anything to befall her unborn child.

Throwing his arms around each of them, Dave, in his natural Italian way, placed smacking kisses on each of their cheeks. "Congratulations!" he crowed excitedly. "You don't have to bar tend if you don't want to. And I'll give you paid leave."

Emily's eyes went wide. "Dave, that's — you don't _have _to do that," she sputtered. "Legally that's not required."

He waved a hand. "I'm insisting. Hell, I'll give it to you even if you decide not to work until after you have the baby, and —"

She held up her hand, laughing. "That's generous of you, boss," she said, smiling. She wrapped an arm around Hotch's waist. "But I'm gonna work. I'll just pass on the drinks."

Uncertain, Dave nodded. "Alright then," he said. "But you will get paid maternity leave. I completely support that."

Smiling a rare smile, Hotch kissed the side of Emily's head. "Thanks, Rossi," he said appreciatively.

Dave grinned. "It's just in my nature."

XXXXX

As the time was nearing midnight, the bar was filled with people, all of whom were drinking. It was significantly less rowdy than the karaoke nights got, but still there was a din that filled the place and required people to speak louder than normal. Emily was behind the bar, pouring drinks and laughing with people, but Dave was watching all of the people at the bar carefully to make sure none of them tried too hard to get her to drink.

"C'mon, love," Mick Rawson teased. "Have a drink with me."

Smiling serenely, Emily tapped his nose and shook her head. "Not tonight, Mickey dear." She passed his drink across to him and held out her hand for his money.

He chuckled and shook his head. "Suit yourself, Hotch Two," he said, accepting his drink and putting his money in her palm. "If I didn't know any better I'd say my favorite bartender is expecting a little bundle of joy." Noticing Emily's eyes went wide, his jaw dropped. "Oh…" His voice trailed off.

Dave's eyes trailed over to Hotch, and he saw that his cook was glaring daggers at Mick's look of realization. Waving a hand at him, Dave shook his head. Emily could easily handle this.

"Mick, I swear to God if you say anything I will kick your ass so hard you won't be able to walk straight for a week," Emily growled.

The swaggering smile he usually held graced Mick's face, and he winked. "Secret is safe with me, m'lady," he said, giving her a graceful little bow. "But if it's a boy, you better be naming him Mick."

"Are you kidding me?" she laughed. "That would only inflate your gigantic ego even more."

"You make it sound like that's a bad thing," Mick said, raising his drink to her.

Dave rolled his eyes. Yes, it would be a bad thing to inflate Mick Rawson's ego. It already filled the bar on a nightly basis.

Hotch had come around out of the kitchen and was wiping his hands on his apron. He put his hand on the small of Emily's back and whispered something in her ear. Emily listened to him as she was pouring a pitcher of beer and laughed. She cupped Hotch's cheek and kissed him softly, seeming to tell him not to worry. Hotch looked uncertain, but she pointed to the kitchen, giving him a stern look. Grinning, he ran his thumb over her cheekbone and went back to the kitchen.

Dave smiled. Who knew his bar would sprout love? It certainly hadn't for him, but two couples were together. It had been three years since he'd seen Erin Strauss. Yes, she knew he'd named his bar after her. Yes, she knew he was head over heels in love with her. And some part of him wanted to believe she loved him in return. However, she'd gone and gotten married to someone else, telling him she would always remember him. All he had to remember her was his bar and the memories of their time together, however short it may have been.

"C'mon, doll! Give us a dance!"

The cat calls of a group of twenty-one year olds who were out for their first night of drinking drew Dave's attention from Emily and Hotch. Four of them were gathered around Penelope, all of them leering at her with their glazed over, drunken eyes. She rolled her eyes and forced a smile.

"Sorry, boys," she said. "Not now."

Out of the corner of his eye, Dave caught sight of Derek, his face appearing like a thundercloud as he saw the group around his girlfriend. Without hesitation, he threw the dollar bills he'd been given by a customer onto the counter and ignored the irritated woman who he'd ignored to go around the bar. He made his way over to the group, and for a moment Dave thought there was going to be a few people getting punched that night. Rubbing his forehead, he went to follow his bartender. "Jesus Christ," he muttered. He wasn't in the mood to have a lawsuit on his hand, or for Derek to get arrested for assault, no matter how justified it would be.

"Get the fuck outta my way," Derek snarled loudly, shoving two of the college boys out of his way.

Penelope's eyes went wide at the dangerous look in her boyfriend's eyes as he glared ferociously at the boys around her. Several of the regular customers were now observing the event around them, all of them petrified of what Derek might do. Dave was walking over, ready to stop the madness. "Okay, Derek," he said, attempting to calm the situation. "Just —"

However, what Derek did next was a shock to everyone. Instead of raising his fist to punch out the young men, he dug his hand in his pocket and descended to one knee right in front of Penelope. Her eyes went wider than they already were, and a smile stretched across her face from ear to ear. She covered her mouth as he opened the small velvet box. All of the college men immediately backed up, allowing Rossi to get a look at the ring. It was a silver band, a shining diamond surrounded by two glittering rubies. Tears filled Penelope's eyes, and Derek flashed her his thousand watt grin.

"Penelope Garcia," he began, "you used to tell me there wasn't a chance you would marry me. But considering we've been together for two years now, and we've got a little boy, will you marry me so all of these punks and women who come in here and ogle us know we belong to each other and no one else?"

Wiping the two tears that rolled down her cheeks, Penelope nodded and allowed him to slide the ring onto her left hand. Dave grinned as the perfectly sized ring slid onto her hand.

"Get up here, you," Penelope laughed, pulling him into a fiery kiss. As their lips remained planted together, Derek dipped her down and held her tightly. Cheering and clapping filled the bar, and Dave grinned.

Yeah, his bar was the place to be if someone wanted to fall in love.

"Looks like there's love in the air," a voice behind him commented, a slight twinge of amusement filling her voice.

Dave's eyes went wide, and his heart sped up to jet plane speeds. He would know that voice anywhere. Whirling around, he was shellshocked as his eyes fell upon the one woman he'd always wanted to be with. Erin had her purse slung over her shoulder and her arms were crossed over her chest. His mouth dropped open.

An amused smile graced her face, and she motioned to him. "You're looking well," she remarked.

He wasn't quite sure what to do; all his body was reacting to was the shock at seeing her. Sparks shot through his heart, and his palms began to sweat. "Erin?" he stammered. "Wh - what are you doing here?"

"Isn't it obvious?" she asked coyly.

"…no," he returned.

Erin laughed. "It's a bar," she said. "I came for a drink."

Gulping, he nodded. "Well then," he said. "Come with me. I'll serve it to you myself."

As they returned to the bar, Reid had started playing "Unchained Melody," and Morgan and Garcia were dancing, their cheeks resting against one another. Hotch and Emily were standing behind the bar, Hotch's arms wrapped around her from behind. Erin was write about one thing: there was certainly love in the air.

"Who knew your bar could bring lovers together," she said as she sat on the barstool. Rossi went around the bar and smiled, his confidence slowly returning.

"The usual?" he asked, shooting her a suave smile.

She arched a brow. "Do you remember what my usual is?"

"My dear, I could never forget what your usual is," he remarked, going behind him to pull out two wine glasses and a bottle Shiraz. Opening the bottle, he poured two glasses and slid one over to her. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of having Erin Strauss grace my bar?"

She sipped her wine. "Well, it's partly mine, isn't it?" she teased. "After all, my name is on the building."

He laughed. "You didn't answer my question." He arched his brow at her and took a drink from his glass. "It's been three years. Don't you think this is a little out of the blue? And where's your husband?"

"I don't have one anymore," she announced, meeting his eyes. "We…grew apart."

Dave blinked. "Oh," he murmured, sipping his wine so he wouldn't begin jumping up and down with glee. Was this his chance?

"Sorry to hear that," he mumbled, averting his eyes so she wouldn't see they were shining with hope.

Erin snorted. "Dave, I've known you long enough to know when you're lying. You're happier than a kid on Christmas morning."

He returned his gaze to her and instead of seeing hurt or anger on her face, he saw an amused smile. Sipping his wine once more, he coughed slightly. "Oh, well…I guess you're right," he admitted. He shot her a grin. "What can I say? I've always loved you, Erin. Hearing you're single now makes me hope I have a chance with you."

Smiling, Erin's eyes flicked to both Morgan and Garcia and Emily and Hotch. When her eyes returned to Dave, she swirled the wine in her glass and took a sip. "You know, the one time I came in here before, I thought your staff were a little…strange," she said. "But this place seems to have given them something." Her eyes twinkled. "Maybe it can give us something, too."

Dave felt his heart soar at Erin's words. Sincerity was written across her face as she sipped her wine, waiting for him to speak. He grinned broadly and stroked his goatee. "Maybe it can."

Glancing at his staff, he smiled. Quirks or not, they'd come together at his bar. Something about this place was causing a little bit of magic in the air for them. Maybe it could do the same for him.


End file.
